


A Boy Becomes an Alpha

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha Peter, Alpha Peter Hale, Alpha Stiles, Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Alpha Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Stiles, BAMF Stiles Stilinski, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mates, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Mentioned Kate Argent, Past Abuse, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Gets Bitten, The Alpha Pack, Violence, Werewolf Mates, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 08:26:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18426777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: Stiles was never meant to be an Alpha, but fate had other plans.





	A Boy Becomes an Alpha

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sisforsterek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisforsterek/gifts).



Stiles’ feet slowed beneath him, his feet sinking slightly into the cushion of damp autumn leaves, piles of rotting flesh which littered the forest floor.

The usual autumn tones of brown, gold, orange, and red were darkened by the night, now a dreary mix of greys and heavy black shadows. Dense foliage hung overhead, enclosing the space, shutting out the sky and filtering moonlight. Streams of silver light surrounded him, not enough to see but just enough to distinguish shapes from shadows.

Among the darkness he could make out the fluorescent bleached skeletons of the birch trees, their slender trunks lining the shadows as eye-like rings watched him from all angles.

He turned in circles, the pale light of his torch gliding across the forest floor.

It was around here somewhere.

The police report had said there was a body in this part of the reserve.

Twigs and leaves rustled and broke beneath his feet as he slowly turned in circles, surveying his surroundings. Fallen branches snagged at his ankles, scratching at the pale skin. He hissed in pain, pulling up the cuff of his jeans just enough to see the small droplets of blood.

There was a rustle in the bushes in front of him.

He bolted upright, holding his torch out in front of himself and staring at the bush.

Clumps of leaves and low hanging branches crackling, shaking and bowing as a shadow moved in the darkness.

“Scott?” Stiles whispered. “You came after all, huh?”

There was no reply.

“Scotty,” Stiles said, his voice flat. “It’s dark, we’re in the middle of the forest looking for a dead body. If you think so much as think of sneaking up on me to try and scare me for fun, I will kill you.”

The cold air blew through him.

Stiles took a hesitant step forward. “Scott?”

The figure burst out of the bush, slamming into Stiles and knocking him to the ground.

He curled up in a ball, shielding his face with his arms as the thundering hooves pounding the ground. He slowly opened his eyes, watching as the deer disappeared into the darkness.

His heart hammered against his ribs, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

He braced his hands against the ground, sharp sticks prodding his palms. He grabbed his torch, hands shaking as the echo of the deer drifted away into the cool night air.

Stiles drew in measured breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. He slowly turned back to where the deer had come from.

His heart stopped. His blood ran cold in his veins.

He watched as the shadows shifted around the figure.

Claws dug into the mud, upturning the dirt and releasing the sweet earthy scent. Crimson eyes turned on him as the creature rose up on its hind feet.

Its large form was unhuman; standing tall on curved, slender legs. The bright red eyes were set above an elongated snout. Long arms hung at its side, disfigured hands – hairy, like a wolf’s paws – tense, and thick, curved claws lit by the bleeding streams of moonlight.

Stiles swallowed against the lump in his throat, his eyes wide with terror. He held his breath, his pulse pounding in his eyes.

The creature let out a low growl and lowered its head, arching its shoulders like a predator about to pounce. Glowing red eyes narrowed on him.

 _Run_ , his mind screamed. _Run!_

Stiles flailed about, stumbling backwards. His feet slid out beneath him and he hit the ground. He used a hand to steady himself, digging his feet into the dirt and tearing into the darkness beyond the trees.

He sprinted through the dense forest, weaving his way through the labyrinth of thick tree trunks. He sprung over the fallen trees, broken branches and thick shrubs, his nimble legs and spring-locked ankles projecting him over the large logs. The thick undergrowth and claw-like twigs dragged at his feet. He tried to keep himself upright, struggling not to stumble or trip as he sprinted away from the creature.

But he wasn’t fast enough.

The creature pounced on him.

The air was knocked from his lungs as he hit the ground, rolling down a rocky embankment. His head striking one of the rocks, his body falling still among the jagged slate and the moon-lit water.

He wheezed as pain tore through his body, his head pounding and his side burning. The creature caught up to him, their weight bearing down on him and claws digging into his shoulders.

He felt his eyes grow heavy, darkness creeping in with the promise of relief. The cool water of the stream caressed his face, his unfocused eyes watching the way the silver moonlight caught the water, making it look like ribbons of silk as it threaded through his fingers.

Beyond the pounding blood in his ears, he heard another growl. A dark figure sprinted towards them, tackling the creature and knocking him off of Stiles.

His lungs flooded with air, a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Stiles didn’t spare a second look. He pushed himself to his feet, struggling to find footing among the uneven rocks and trickling stream. He staggered to his feet and sprinted away.

The air was filled with animalistic growls and snapping jaws, draining away the further he ran into the dense forest.

His legs burnt as he forced himself to run further and further, until he was sure he was away from them.

He slowed, running on the spot as he turned about to check whether he was being followed.

His shallow breath swirled before his in a thin white cloud. His eyes flickered among the shadows.

He took a second to orientate himself, running towards the end of the reserve that backed onto the small children’s park a few streets over from his house.

His lungs burnt and his ribs felt like they had been shattered, but he couldn’t slow down. Tears streaked his face, pain coursing through his veins as he held his arm to his ribs and ran.

He ran until the golden glow of the streetlights broke through the dark labyrinth of trees. He ran across the open soccer field and down the abandoned street. He sprinted to his house, climbing up the through his window and into his bedroom.

He staggered across his room, reaching for the light switch, but froze.

He took a step back, turning to look at the mirror that hung on the inside of his open closet door.

His hands shook as he reached down and pulled back the hem of his jacket.

He swallowed hard against the bile that rose into his throat, tears welling in his eyes as he stared at his reflection. The sickening smell of copper filled his nose as he stared at the growing red stain that covered his side.

He reached around with his free hand, fingers brushing against the frayed edges of his torn shirt and gouged flesh.

He slowly lifted the hem of his shirt, his heart sinking into his gut as he realised there was a pattern to the bleeding wounds.

A bite.

 

 

Peter’s dark eyes were distant as he stood before the ashy ruins of the Hale house. His face was still rippled with burns and scars, slowly healing.

“Power tends to corrupt,” the man mused, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “And absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

Stiles’ brow furrowed as he stared at the man in confusion.

“My sister used to say that a lot.” His voice drifted off and he fell silent for a while. “I once knew an Alpha who controlled a pack of Alphas. He tried to enlist my sister, but she was too stubborn—too blind—to see the power he offered her,” Peter said, staring at the withered wood and scorched glass that had once been his home. “She thought the price to pay for power was too high; said that he was asking too much of her.”

Stiles swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. “What did he ask of her?”

“To become a stronger Alpha, you must take your Beta’s power,” he replied.

“Take a Beta’s power,” he repeated.

The mulled the words over.

“Like, make them human? You mean, you make me normal again?” Stiles asked, hope filling his voice.

Peter was silent for a moment. He lifted his hand to his face and flexed his fingers, his nails extending into jagged claws. His eyes lit up red as he turned to look at Stiles.

His voice was deep and merciless as he said, “No.”

Stiles didn’t have time to react.

Peter grabbed him by his throat, hoisting the boy off his feet.

Stiles lashed out, dragging his claws across Peter’s arms but the man wouldn’t let go. He slammed his feet into Peter’s chest.

The Alpha cried out in pain as he dropped the boy, his eyes burning brighter as he glared at Stiles, livid with rage.

Stiles scurried backwards, scrambling to his feet but his was too late.

Peter grabbed his ankles and pulled him across the ground.

Stiles kicked out, the sole of his shoe hitting the Alpha’s hand, but this time he didn’t let go. He knelt down on the boy, pinning him to the ground as he raised his hand.

“Peter!” Derek bellowed, catching the Alpha’s attention. He turned to glare at his nephew.

In that second of hesitation, Stiles acted without thinking. He swiped at Peter, his claws tearing open the man’s throat.

Blood sprayed across Stiles’ face, gushing from Peter’s throat as the man stared at him, eyes wide.

Stiles stared back, sickened by the smell of blood. He watched in horror as Peter gasped for air, choking on his own breath as he tried to hold his hands against his throat.

Blood spilled over his hands. The red glow from his eyes faded as his irises returned to their natural hue. He collapsed to the ground.

Stiles kicked himself free and scrambled to his feet, staring in horror as Peter’s body grew still. Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision as he turned to look at Derek.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, tears clearing trails through his blood-splattered cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Derek said softly, stepping over to Stiles’ side and pulling him close. “You’re okay.”

“He was going to kill me,” Stiles rasped.

“Come on,” Derek said softly, gently leading Stiles back down the long driveway to his car. He pulled the door open and helped Stiles into the passenger’s seat before hurrying around to the driver’s side.

Stiles felt numb, watching the world flash by. Street lamps strobed, lighting the world before plunging him back into darkness.

They made their way down the abandoned streets of Beacon Hills where no-one else dared to go at night. The glass of the streetlamps were clouded and muddy, the old bulbs strobing and flickering as they struggled to hold onto life. The surrounding buildings were decrepit: old workshops and industrial buildings, some in ruins – with buckling walls, crumpled bricks and streams of water coursing through the rubble like ravines – and others were just abandoned and tagged with crude sprawls of spray-paint.

The building they were looking for stood tall among the rest, old but not the least bit damaged.

The loft.

Derek helped Stiles upstairs, shoving open the heavy iron door and guiding him into the open lounge room. He stepped away from the boy, hurrying over to the small corner of the room where the large bed was shoved up against the wall.

He dug through a dresser, pulling out a grey Henley and a pair of jeans. He set them down in the bathroom before returning to Stiles’ side.

“Get yourself cleaned up,” he said softly.

“We should call the police,” Stiles uttered.

“No,” Derek replied firmly.

“It was self-defence… They’ll understand, right?”

“They’ll understand how you tore open a man’s throat with your bare hands?” Derek said. “I don’t think so.”

“What do I tell my dad?”

“Nothing,” Derek answered.

“You don’t understand—” His words drifted off as he struggled to breathe.

Derek took a step closer, craning his neck to look Stiles in the eye. “You’re right, I don’t understand. I was born like this, I don’t know what it’s like for you. But I know you want to keep your dad safe. So, for now, it’s best that you don’t tell him.”

Stiles opened his mouth to object, but Derek cut him off. “You can tell him one day, just not today.”

Stiles nodded.

“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed.

“It’s okay,” Derek said softly. “I’ll take care of everything. Just get yourself cleaned up.”

Without another word, Derek left.

Stiles did as he was told. He showered, watching as the blood swirled across the shower floor like ink through water bleeding into the drain. He dried himself and got dressed.

Derek still wasn’t home when he came out of the bathroom.

He made his way over to the couch and sat down, pulling his legs up to his chest and burying his face in his knees. He drew in deep breath, letting the soft must that clung to Derek’s shirt sooth him.

Finally, Derek returned. He made his way over to Stiles’ side.

Stiles could smell the rich heart that clung to his clothes, but he didn’t question it. He knew what Derek had gone to do.

“Stiles,” Derek whispered. “Show me your eyes.”

Stiles shook his head, his tear-stained cheeks glittering in the light of the full moon.

“Stiles, look at me,” Derek said softly. He gently cupped Stiles’ cheek, turning the boy’s face towards his and forcing him to look into his eyes as they flickered and glowed red.

“How am I an Alpha?” he asked. “I didn’t take the power from my uncle, so how am I the Alpha?”

“You’re the last Hale, it’s only natural that you would inherit the power,” Stiles suggested.

Derek shook his head. “No, the power is only inherited through a familial hierarchy if the Alpha dies of natural causes or by human hand,” he explained. “When an Alpha is killed by another werewolf, the power is passed on to the one who killed them.”

 _So, Peter really is dead_ , Stiles thought, dropping his gaze.

“Stiles,” Derek said with the authority of an Alpha. He craned his neck, his glowing eyes catching Stiles’. “Show me your eyes.”

Stiles blinked heavily, his irises igniting with an unhuman glow.

Red.

Alpha.

 

 

“ _Oh my God_!” Stiles threw his head back, slumping back against the couch as he let out a frustrated groan. “Will you please _shut up_.”

Peter narrowed his glare on the boy. “You killed me, remember that?”

“I also brought you back, so quit your bitching,” Stiles replied.

“I _died_ ,” Peter said. “I feel like I’m doing an adequate amount of bitching.”

“I can always kill you again,” Stiles said without a beat of hesitation, his eyes lighting up with a crimson glow.

Derek couldn’t help but smirk.

Peter opened his mouth to say something when the blaring alarm echoes through the loft.

“What’s that?” Isaac asked.

Derek’s eyes drifted to the flashing light by the heavy iron door.

“Bad news,” he answered.

Stiles rose to his feet, standing into the middle of the room. Derek stepped forward, instinctively ushering his Betas behind him.

There was a thundering bang as the iron sliding door was thrown back.

A woman with tan skin stood in the doorway. Her long hair billowed down her back, streaked by gold and orange. She had a slender figure but she had enough muscle on her that she looked like she could hold her own in a fight. She was bare foot, her nails curved and dark like claws.

Behind her stood a tall man with no hair. He was built, with a square jaw and cold dark eyes.

The woman casually stepped forward into the loft, her nails tapping against the concrete floors.

Derek instinctively edged closer to Stiles, ready to step in or push him aside.

Steels didn’t move, he squared off his shoulders and set his jaw, his dark eyes shifting from the man in the doorway to the woman who took another step closer to them.

She turned her glare on the boy.

“Move and you won’t get hurt.” she growled. She turned to look at Derek. “We’re just here for the Alpha.”

Stiles’ was eerily calm as he levelled his eyes on her. His irises lit up red. “Think again.”

“ _Two_ Alphas?” the man in the doorway said, shocked. “In the same territory? How have you not torn each other to shreds yet?”

“Because I’m his,” Stiles answered.

The woman – Kali – frowned in confusion. “His what?”

“His mate,” Stiles said as if it were obvious. He glanced over his shoulder at Derek. “You’ve been tiptoeing around it, but you’re not exactly subtle.”

A soft blush coloured Derek’s cheeks.

Stiles turned back to Kali, his crimson eyes filled with rage. “And if you want him, you’re gonna have to go through me.”

Kali arched a brow at him, impressed. A smirk played across her lips as she shrugged, her eyes glowing red. “Very well.”

She lunged forward.

Stiles caught her arm, turning into her body and hauling her over his shoulder.

She hit the floor with a painful _thud_ , snarling as she rolled over and dug her feet into the concrete.

Stiles was grabbed from behind. He slammed his elbow into Ennis’s gut, balling his fist and slamming his knuckles into the man’s jaw.

Ennis staggered backwards, snarling as he glared at Stiles. He lunged forward, swinging his arm in a wide arc.

Stiles ducked under it, slamming his knuckles into the Alpha’s ribs.

Ennis doubled over, staggering back and falling to his knees.

Kali leapt forward, catching Stiles from behind. She pulled him back, tipping him off balance so his feet pedalled beneath him uselessly. Her claws dug into his throat, drawing small beads of blood.

Stiles winced, sucking in a sharp breath through gritted teeth.

Derek tensed, rage brewing in his eyes.

“Do you know how an Alpha gain more power?” she whispered in his ear.

“By killing their beta,” Stiles answered, shooting a glare at Peter.

“Someone’s been doing his homework,” Kali teased.

Isaac and Boyd edged closer to Derek, their eyes darting from Ennis to Kali, then to Derek as they waited for their Alpha’s orders.

Derek took a step forward.

Kali took a step back, pulling Stiles back with her.

“Uh-uh-uh,” she scolded.

Stiles gasped, grimacing as her hand tensing around his throat, nails digging into his skin.

Derek stood still, his anger intensifying.

“Now, since you’re so smart, can you tell me why this little predicament you’re in is so interesting?” Kali asked.

“Because his beta is another Alpha,” Stiles answered.

“Very good,” she said condescendingly. “Now, Derek – here – is faced with a choice; either he kills you and joins us, or we kill his entire pack.”

“That’s not a choice, it’s an ultimatum,” Stiles corrected. “And you’re forgetting one thing.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I’m an Alpha too.”

Before she could react, Stiles reached behind himself, digging his claws into her shoulder and hauling the woman over his shoulders. He pounced on her, using his knees to pin her arms to the ground and holding his claws against her throat.

Ennis took a step forward but Stiles’ head snapped up, his glare pinning the man in place.

“And you can tell your Alpha that we’re not interested,” Stiles growled, blood dripping down his throat. “You have twenty-four hours to get out of our territory.”

He rose to his feet, letting Kali scramble to her feet.

She skulked back to the door, retreating with Ennis in tow.

Stiles waited, making sure they were gone before turning back to the others.

Derek just started at him, his expression a mix of shock, admiration, and arousal.

“Everyone okay?” Stiles asked.

“You’re bleeding,” Derek said, shaking himself from his stupor.

Stiles waved his hand dismissively. “It’ll heal.”

Derek didn’t listen to him. He ran to the kitchen and grabbed the First Aid kit. He hurried back to Stiles’ side, guiding him over to the couch. He opened the small metal box, pulling out the rubbing alcohol and a small cotton pad. He knelt before Stiles, carefully pressing the disinfectant to the gashes in his throat.

“Please don’t tell my dad about this,” Stiles said, gesturing to his blood throat and stained shirt. “He’ll freak out.”

“He’s probably going to find out,” Derek told him. He was as gentle as he could be as he held the gauze against his torn flesh and taped it in place. “Alpha wounds take longer to heal.”

Stiles shrugged. “I’ll tell him I walked into a tree.”

Derek smirked. “He’ll believe that.”

He set the First Aid kit aside. “So, uh… You know.”

“That we’re mates? Yeah,” Stiles replied. “It took me a while, but yeah.”

Derek let out a measured breath.

“I know you don’t like to talk about what happened to you,” Stiles said. “But I’m not her. And I want to be with you.”

Derek looked up at him, stunned.

“That is, if you want to be with me,” Stiles added.

A breathless laugh escaped Derek’s lips as he smiled sweetly.

“Yeah,” he said. “I want to.”

Stiles leant forward, craning his neck and pressing a soft kiss against Derek’s cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


End file.
